Escape, Greengrass, Vodka
by toujours-eccentrique
Summary: Draco meets his future wife for the first time. One shot.


Draco was immune to everything these days. Even now, surrounded by people, none of whom he cared for much, he felt completely alone. He was still dazed from the events of the past few years, amazed at how so much had changed in such a short space of time. He had done terrible, unforgivable things, things that still kept him awake at night, things that crawled in to his dreams and made him awake drenched in sweat. The image of Hogwarts as he had turned to leave the battle was still imprinted in his mind. It would haunt Draco forever, he was sure. The place that for so long had been his home. The place that he had had a great part in corrupting.

"Draco sweetheart, are you going to eat anything?" His mother's voice sounded from the side of him.

Ah yes, he had forgotten. They were at another tedious dinner party. The scene was always the same. Huge houses, false people, plenty of food and wine. His mother seemed to enjoy them, though Draco suspected she put up a good front. Draco wished he had his mothers strength instead of the cowardice of his father. Despite loosing everything - her husband to Azkaban, her home to debt, her good name to scandal - Narcissa Malfoy had refused to be defeated. She powered on, the strong woman she had always been.

"Mm. Maybe. I feel a bit sick," Draco mumbled.

"Then go outside for some fresh air, darling," His mother suggested.

Draco nodded. Anything to escape and be alone. These places, these people, they suffocated him. Draco threw his napkin - embroidered with some renowned pureblood name - down on to the polished silver plate before him and near bolted from the room. Once out in the cool night air Draco ripped off his tie and loosed his shirt collar. Finally, he could breath.

It was a damp night, the humidity hanging in the balmy air. Draco sat down on the grass, that was damp too. He felt the chill spread through the seat of his trousers but was unable to care. He liked it here, under the vast black sky, the twinkling stars, the glowing moon. Draco closed his eyes and allowed the night to wash over him.

"It feels like a cage, doesn't it?" A voice whispered from behind him.

Draco's eyes flickered open. He wanted to turn around, yet he wanted to be kept in suspense. Draco let the silence expand between them, waiting to see if the strange would bother to stay, before croaking a single, "Yes."

"It helps, being outside. This helps too," The voice continued. Draco heard something clink. Curiosity got the better of him this time. He turned to see a bottle of Vodka swinging before his eyes. Draco stared at the pale hand attached to it and allowed his eyes to travel upwards.

He could recall taking a glance at this girl as he had sat down to dinner earlier, but hadn't fully appreciated her then. She seemed quite tall, from where he was sat, with a lean, willowy body and pale skin. Her face had quite a feline quality to it: dark arched eyebrows, almond shaped pale green eyes, a soft smirk playing around her red lips. Her dark hair tumbled in waves around her slender shoulders, brushing the skin of her breasts, which were protruding slightly from behind the fabric of her dress, which almost matched the colour of her eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

"I thought we could share it," The girl said, jiggling the Vodka bottle. Gathering up the skirts of her dress, she dropped elegantly on to the grass by Draco's side.

"Oh," Draco said.

She took a swig of Vodka, her neat nose wrinkling at the taste, then passed the bottle over to Draco. "I'm Astoria, by the way. Astoria Greengrass," Her voice was like wind chimes.

"Draco Malfoy," Draco muttered as he took a sip of the Vodka. He hated the taste, but it made him feel assured.

"I know who you are," Astoria said, but there was nothing accusing in her tone, "Your mother is very worried about you."

Draco sighed. "I know," He said, then paused before adding, "I hate myself for what I'm doing to her."

"Which is?" Astoria asked. Her turn to take a swig.

"I don't speak to her, I lock myself away. She asks me questions but I don't know how to answer them," Draco explained. He had no idea why he was being so open to this girl, whom he had known mere minutes. Why couldn't he speak to his own mother just as easily, somebody he had known his whole life?

"Ah. I see," Astoria nodded.

"She asks me how I feel, what I think, what I want," Draco said. There was a bitter edge to his voice now. He wiped his Vodka drenched lips roughly with the back of his hand.

Astoria rested her chin on her knees, gazing up at the sky above them.

"The answers are out there, somewhere. They'll come to you in time," She said.

"I just don't know what to do," Draco whispered.

Astoria looked over at him.

"Me neither. I don't think anybody knows what they're doing anymore," She admitted.

"Why are you here?" Draco asked in a tired voice, rubbing his knuckles hard against his eyelids, "Why are you talking to me?"

"I just thought you might have wanted some company," Astoria shrugged.

"I'll tell you what I do want," Draco sighed.

"Yes?" Astoria asked eagerly.

"More Vodka," Draco announced.

Astoria smiled as she passed over the bottle. There was time for their relationship to grow, she knew that much. It just wasn't going to be the straight forward ride she would have preferred.


End file.
